


In The End

by Elsey



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Death, First Blade, M/M, Mark of Cain, Season Finale, angel grace, mark!dean, scary!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-21 01:12:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1532090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsey/pseuds/Elsey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean, Sam and Castiel have found Abbadon and retrieved the First Blade. But will Dean be able to control the Mark of Cain long enough to kill her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The End

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NikkiNoir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikkiNoir/gifts).



> This work is for Nikki, as she inspired me to write it with all of her fears of the finale. This fic is one of the ways that I have envisioned Season 9 ending, as well as making Destiel canon. Share your own opinions on the finale and give me lots of feedback!

“Cas?” Dean asked, vision returning to him, the red ebbing away slowly. He looked around the room to see blood spattering the wall. Eyes wide, he scanned the floor, seeing a decapitated body, the red haired skull lying across the room. Abbadon. Dean looked down at his arm, the Mark of Cain throbbing violently, a brutal red stained on his skin. It gave off the faintest glow as he looked down to see the First Blade in his hand, red the only colour left on it. His hand trembled as he dropped it, the bone clinking to the cement floor. Dean released a stuttering breath as he found the ground rushing to his face, collapsing to his knees. He looked at his crimson hands with wild eyes.

What had he done?

A moan sounded behind him. Dean’s body felt drained as he forced himself to turn around, knees protesting with every awkward turn. A choked noise forced its way through his lips. Cas, his friend, his angel, lay in a twisted heap on the ground, a vibrant red coming from his midsection and low, gasping moans leaking from his lips. Dean covered his face as Cas’ back arched, a scream filling the empty silence, white light spilling from his mouth, eyes, stomach.

“Cas, no!” Dean found himself screaming in desperation. He wrenched himself to his feet, tripping and falling, landing next to Cas’ broken figure.

………..

“Sam! God dammit! Open the fucking door!” Dean yelled, panic rising in his chest.

“I’m trying, I’m trying!” Sam called, voice echoing behind him. Dean heard Sam ram the door once, twice, again. “Dean, I can’t, it won’t budge!”

“Fuck! Cas, you okay?” Dean asked, turning to the cowering angel. He had his hands over his ears, looking as if he was fighting World War Two inside of his body. Dean was both annoyed and afraid; how was he supposed to do this himself? “Cas, get up, we have to go.” Dean ripped the angel to his feet, quickly letting him go and staggering back as he saw the veins that were marking his face. With a tired stutter of breath, Cas grabbed the wall for support.

“I’m fine,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

“You’re fucking not fine, Cas! Sam! I’m going in alone! Keep working on the door!” Dean said, turning away to call over to Sam.

“Dean, no, what the fuck! You can’t-”

“There’s no time, Sam, I’m going!” Dean turned away from the door, beginning to run when a hand caught his shoulder, ripping him back. “What the fuck?” Dean asked, facing Cas angrily. The angel looked at his feet, brow creased. With a trembling hand, he reached inside his trench coat and pulled out the First Blade.

“You’ll need this,” he said in a hushed tone.

“Where-?”

“Crowley isn’t as strong as you think.” With a small cry, Cas dropped to the floor, arms wrapped around his body. Dean reached for him, but Cas shoved him away. “Go! I’m- I’m rejecting the Grace. I can’t- AGH!” Cas curled into himself, pain written across his features. “Dean, hurry!” With a final worried glance, Dean turned and ran down the hallway, the First Blade gripped tightly in his hand. The lights flickered three times before going off. Dean stopped, breathing echoing around him. He could hear the blood pumping in his veins. He looked down to see the Mark glowing brightly as his flesh, veins flashing red with it as it pulsed. His eyes changed, darkness encircling them as he gripped the bone handle tightly. He stopped breathing, his ears hearing every small sound.

Something moved to his left and Dean struck out his arm. A laugh echoed around him as he hit air. Blind fury was rising into Dean’s chest.

“Show yourself, whore!” Dean yelled, hand clenched tightly around the blade, blood pulsing loudly in his ears as he searched the darkness for the demon he knew was hiding.

“What’s wrong, Dean? Scared you’ll miss?” a light and airy voice asked.

“Fucking coward, you’re so afraid you can’t even turn the lights on,” Dean seethed, trying to level his voice. A small chuckle sounded around him as a switch was flipped, the dim lights luminating the hallway. Dean was sprinting forwards, moving to the room that the blueprints claimed would be at the end of the hallway. He reached a drop off, jumping the five feet into a concrete room that looked like a recreation of a cave. His arm was screaming in pain as the anticipation of a kill hung over his head. With the sound of a shoe making contact, Dean swung himself around, Abbadon casually leaning against one of the stone walls. Her eyes widened slightly as she zeroed in on the Mark and the blade. Dean saw her neck tighten in fear as she put two and two together. Her eyes snapped up to Dean’s face. He raised an eyebrow and her mouth remained in a tight line.

“I wonder how Sammy will feel when he finds out that little love mark is permanent,” Abbadon asked. Dean snorted.

“Why don’t you get a closer look?” Dean asked, advancing towards her. She began to move back. Dean’s eyes showed no mercy as he took slow strides towards the frightened demon. He heard shallow breathing coming from behind him. His brain registered it as Cas and he stopped for a moment, his mind screaming _GET HIM OUT!_ Dean shook his head, eyes turning from the dark shadowy black they had been to green once more. Abbadon watched him curiously, lips curling into a snarl as she realized something had flipped the switch, causing him to go from a creature of death back to human. Dean’s mind fired up again as that snarl escaped her teeth, quickly turning his head and charging towards her. Abbadon barely had time to dodge him and snap her fingers before Dean was turning from the now clear wall, arm raised to smite the demon, soon restrained behind him by powerful arms. But not powerful enough. Dean wrenched himself free, taking the blade and swinging it quickly, arm full of electricity as he heard the head land on the ground with a satisfying _smack_. Dean turned, faced with another demon, decapitating it just as quickly. He looked to see the fear and panic rising in Abbadon as he took the head off of a third without looking, eyes pouring into hers. A small smile twitched on her lips as the Dean heard the body behind him sink to the floor. She raised her eyebrows and nodded for him to look back. Dean slowly turned. His throat closed and his heart stopped.

“Ben,” he gasped through clenched teeth. The boy’s body and head separated, his mouth open in an ‘o’ of horror, eyes full of terror. Dean felt hot rage lick at his limbs, fueling his core.

“She never told you he was yours, did she?” Abbadon spat. Dean’s vision red, he turned back to Abbadon, eyes full of fire as he lunged towards her, stabbing the blade. Tripping blindly, Abbadon dodged the blade, opening her mouth to le her smoky figure escape. Dean felt the blade connect with something soft, but in his frenzy didn’t care to worry or look, just thrusting his hand back and swinging it for the final time, his entire body screaming in pleasure as the weapon easily sliced through Abbadon’s throat, smoke caught midway as it seeped back into her quickly dropping body. Dean was trembling, the Mark feeling as if it would rip his innards to shreds and burn his arm off. He closed his eyes and turned his head to the ceiling, opening his mouth and finding an angry scream coming out of it as he lowered his arm. Again he screamed, anger and fear and pain and panic all escaping his body, eyes dark and despair written across his features. He looked at the fallen body, mind black and not caring, seeing his friend's face fill with fear and pain as he sunk to the ground, hands trying to hold the blood that escaped from the stab wound, a light glowing inside of the wound. The man who had thrust the blade into Cas hadn't been Dean, and the man before him now was not Dean. The man turned away, shoulders soon slumping and body relaxing as Cas fell wordlessly to the ground, writhing in pain, Dean's back to him.

“Cas?” Dean asked, vision slowly returning to him, the red ebbing away slowly.

……….

Dean’s arms were soon wrapped around Cas’ now slack body. He shook him.

“Cas! Cas, look at me!” Dean bit back a scream as his head flew up, seeing a small body laying five feet before him. A choking sound slipped from his throat as he saw Ben’s petrified face looking back as him. “Please, God, please, no,” Dean breathed, heart shattering in his chest. He felt his world crashing around him, unable to take his eyes off of the boy’s.

 _“She never told he was yours, did she?”_ Tears fell onto Dean’s cheeks, his breathing ragged, not able to look away from Ben’s face. His son’s face. With an anguished moan, Dean slumped over top of Cas’ body. Both of Dean’s children were dead. He swung one hand to his head as he heard Sam’s gunshot go off in his mind, seeing his daughter fall to the ground. A scream ripped from his throat as he felt himself swinging the blade, the sound it made connecting with Ben’s neck, his deformed body collapsing. Eyes burning, another scream echoed off of the walls, but it was not Dean’s. His eyes snapped open as he saw Cas looking at him wildly, face slicked in sweat and torso leaking a nearly black blood.

“Cas!” Dean breathed, quickly removing his coat and pressing it into the angel’s gut, holding it firmly, vision blurry with tears, uncontrollable sobs escaping his blubbering lips. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Don’t go, I need you, I need you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Dean gritted his teeth as he felt the Mark pulse, seeming to be able to tell that the blade was so close. The blade he had stabbed Cas with. His angel. His friend. His _Cas_.

“D-Dean,” Cas mumbled, hand reached to grab Dean’s arm, slipping away, leaving a wet stain of blood on the patch of skin.

“I’m here, I’m here,” Dean told him, moving one hand away to turn Cas’ face towards his own, locking eyes with the man. Dean realized he was dying. The Grace was gone. Cas was human. Cas was dying.

“I… I need to… to tell you,” Cas moaned, each word leaving his mouth with a hiss.

“Don’t, Cas, save your strength.”

“It… was… you,” he managed, lids heavy as he struggled to keep contact with Dean’s eyes. “It was always… always you.”

“Don’t, Cas,” Dean whispered, throat tight as his hands firmly pressed on Cas’ midsection, a garbled scream rising in Cas’ throat as he twisted under Dean’s hands.

“Naomi,” he screamed. “You. Dean, you- you… you broke- the- con… connection. It. Was always- you.” Dean’s veins turned to ice. His heart stopped. He clenched his teeth together, squeezing his eyes shut. “Lo…ve you. Dean.” A sob rose from Dean’s chest. He slowly moved his head down to Cas’, resting their foreheads together as Cas gasped, screaming out words in a dead language.

“Me too,” he whispered. Cas’ breathing soon rose to hysterics. Neither men moved their heads away from each other. Cas moved his arm to grip the back of Dean’s shirt, blood slowly leaking from his mouth as his pupils dilated, blue staring into Dean’s green ones.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” Dean said, over and over. He nodded to himself before taking a stained hand away from Cas’ stomach, placing it on his face. A final, slow breath seeped from his mouth, circling Dean’s face before moving away. Lips parted and eyes dead, Cas’ hand released Dean’s shirt, falling limply to the concreted. Shaking violently, Dean’s cheeks were wet with a new stream of tears. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’ll see you soon.” Dean moved his face from Cas’ with more effort than he had expected to have to use. With a shuddering breath, Dean moved his lips to Cas’ forehead, pressing them lightly as his tears dripped down into Cas’ hair. Eyes squeezed shut, he stayed like that for a long moment before moving away. An anguished moan leaked off of his tongue as Dean cradled Cas’ slowly cooling body to his own, eyes shut to not see his dead son a few short feet away.

“It’s okay, Cas. It’s okay. I’ll see you soon, I promise,” Dean told him in a shattered voice. Dean heard the sound of footsteps pounding and loud breathing, then a scraping sound as someone stopped themselves from falling into the pit.

“Dean-” Sam yelled, stopping dead in the middle of his sentence, raising a hand to his mouth as he surveyed the scene before him. There were two dead demons on the ground, Abbadon as well. He saw Ben laying on the ground, the blade a few feet from his severed head. Dean was screaming in the middle of the floor, a man in a trench coat wrapped in his arms, blood everywhere. Sam shook his head.

“No,” he managed, quickly stumbling down the foot ledge and into the pit. He scrambled over to Dean. “Dean? Dean!” His brother wouldn’t look at him.

“All my fault,” he breathed, barely audible. Sam shook his head, slowly placing a hand on Dean’s back. Dean moved away violently, careful to keep Cas’ head off of the ground. “Don’t! Just…” Dean stopped, looking at Sam. Sam didn’t see his brother in this man. This man was hollow, dead, broken. This man’s eyes were the very definition of dead. This man was not Dean.

“Dean, come on, we need to go.”

“I killed them,” he choked.

“Dean, listen to me, we need to go.”

“Sam, he was my son.” Sam froze, swallowing hard as he looked at Ben, throat clenching up and eyes burning. “He was my son and I killed him.”

“You didn’t know, Dean. Please, we need to go,” Sam begged in a thick voice.

“I killed Cas. He loved me, Sam. I… I think…. I think I loved him,” Dean whispered, mostly to himself. “And now he’s dead.” Sam carefully put a hand on Dean’s arm.

“Dean, we need to go before more demons come,” Sam said softly. Dean had been looking at the ground, but faced his brother once again.

“Let them come.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I deserve to die.”

“Dean!”

“ _I DESERVE TO DIE! LOOK HIM, SAM! LOOK AT THEM! I DESERVE TO DIE!_ ” Dean’s chest heaved as he slumped to the floor, head resting against Cas’ face. “I deserve to die.” Sam stood, putting his shaking hands on Dean’s shoulders. He pulled his brother to his feet, quickly taking his weight onto his shoulders as Dean collapsed. Sam held him up, slowly moving him to the entrance. Dean was shaking, eyes looking back, pure pain etched across his features, unable to look away from the carnage. He felt the Mark burn as his eyes found the blade. He looked back at Ben, at Cas. Dean closed his eyes, Sam still trying to drag him away.

“I deserve to die.” 


End file.
